


Veni Vidi Amavi

by Enchanted_Forest



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BLM, Character Death, Minor Character(s), Modern Era, Protests, Song Lyrics, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchanted_Forest/pseuds/Enchanted_Forest
Summary: The land of Albion has never been darker, England, the United Kingdom, the lands of myth and once magic, the year 2020, times have never been further from hope, the land of Albion is once more in its greatest hour of need, so much death and destruction has crippled society, the light is fading, fear is blossoming and many are resigning to their fate or dying fighting for life, life equal and unwavering, but a flame is flickering to life, a flame so bright it will be a beacon in the abyss, the time has come, the once and future king must returnThis is my first story here so please be kind but i am open to criticism
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Veni Vidi Amavi

**AN:**

**Hi everyone, first story on Ao3 so i dont know how this will go...**

**This story came to me in a thought, with how terrible this year has been so far i wondered, how many people wish there truly was a once and future king to come end the suffering?**

**Anyway, i suppose, i don't own the BBC Merlin Characters or the Cameo characters from the Netflix remake of She-Ra but i do own my few little town characters**

**I hope you enjoy**

* * *

.

  
There was something foreboding in the muggy summer air

As the sun rose there was a strange heavy fog and warm dampness settling and the amber light of the sun through the thick fog glowed like fire through the tall trees, this had settled over all of England, foretelling the heavy rain that would come, maybe even a massive storm  
But many were leaving their homes by first morning light, clad entirely head to toe in black clothes, heavy backpacks or gym bags filled to the brim and as much of their faces concealed as possible, parents and children alike sobbed as their loved ones left their homes unlike ever before, and though this had become a common occasion, today, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, they pleaded that those on a mission stayed home this day

They feared loss more today than any other day  
And yet they did not know why

And as many filed in to hired busses, well, they hid their tears from view  
This was going to be the greatest battle yet  
Many left behind tried their hardest to continue the only normality they had left, in this little town everything happened the same every day  
There was a little girl only six years old, Amelia Brooks, with dark skin, raven hair and beautiful seafoam eyes that ran from her home to the bakery first thing in the morning to collect fresh bread and scones to take to her grandparents even though they in an estate that was two buildings away from the Bakery and little Amelia had to run from five streets away to get to the bakery, she was happy to make the journey for her grandparents, the young baker, Jeremy Harrow, would greet her the same way every morning, even had his own nickname for her

Little Fairy

She’d always have the brightest smile when she ran in, she’d put the seven-fifty on the counter and Jeremy would hand her a bag with the bread and mixed scones and then as if he forgot, would give her a bag of bread crusts from the day before for the ducks she liked to feed and a steaming croissant on a floral paper napkin before bowing as he bid her farewell  
And every time, as she ran out the door, she would nearly run in to Adrianne Harrow as she dismounted her bicycle, the girl laughing as she walked in to the bakery tying her apron to begin her shift, Amelia would run past Mr Grierson, a man no one knew the first name of, as he made his way to the library/book shop, she would also pass little Conner Felton who was only two years older but convinced her was so much more mature than her, their grandparents were neighbours at the estate so they would always walk down the paths together teasing each other

Kera and Adonna Rodgers would walk down the streets hand in hand to meet with their friends, Genevieve and Bartholomew Carter, they were an odd bunch, Genevieve and Kera still in their last year of school but as soon as Adonna and Bartholomew, though he preferred Barry, finished their schooling, had proposed to their significant other and had a small wedding as soon as possible  
The group had nicknames for each other that only their closest friends could use, Catra, Adora, Glimmer and Bow, but hearing how close these friends were made many patrons of the café they were regulars at smile, remembering their own childhood days of teenage dramas and troubles

Hanna Sanchez would already be walking in to the radio station and starting her shift with music hour, and as it was pride month, would always start the day with an LGBT+ singer  
And then, the gentle old man, Mr Colins, would be seen walking past the small town on the path beside the lake then walk down the hill to sit at the edge of the water where he would sit with a steaming coffee, later he would be joined by Amelia who feeds the birds that gather on the surface for her, Mr Colins would always tell her a new story every day, then, he would walk towards the forest and wouldn’t be seen again till he made the trek again the next day

Many suspect him to be an old army veteran, there were so many years in those haunted and troubled eyes but he was always there, even the elderly remember him, but no one believes them when they say that Mr Colins has always looked old, but who would believe the daft ramblings of those who had lived much longer than their disbelieving children and grandchildren?

But today, no one still in the town had seen him, Young Amelia had, however, seen a figure, clad entirely in black kneeling at the water’s edge where Mr Colins would settle down before the figure, walked towards the busses, she was sure it was Mr Colins, and when she had told her mother what she had seen when Mrs Zephone Brooks arrived at her parent’s home, her mother had cried as she realised her child’s elderly friend and the gentle man that in his own ways, took care of everyone in their little town, may not come home

No, Mr Colins was on the bus that drove to the location of today’s march, one that may carry on through the night

.

I’ll be with you soon

Such terribly old cobalt eyes, cast towards the sky, shimmered with unshed tears and there was almost a relief in them  
Of one looked in to this fickle old man’s eyes closely, they might see the slightest ring of molten gold around his irises, growing ever closer to the pupil, slower than a snail’s pace but growing

And he walked, he walked through the crowd, all in black, as silently stepping as a wraith, only his eyes visible amongst the shroud and the mask, but the firm eyebrows furrowed above those eyes, pale grey, became darker and darker, the only colour on his face the colours of pride painted on his eyelids that slowly grew less wrinkled and crow’s feet faded and sunken eyes filled in but the bags never left his face  
He looked to the posters, the signs, this was a peaceful march, but it would not last, he had already seen it, and as his form, still aged, glided through the crowds, the sound of music mixing in with the calls of people crying to be heard, and the air turned sharp and bitter on the tongue, he knew, as the men behind the barricade of shields became restless and argumentative, that it would not last

Peace was not possible on this day, so he needed to protect everyone he could, the protest was long and laboured, it had stayed peaceful for so long, but it had been hours of driving, hours of setting up, hours of rallying to begin the march, and within seconds, opposing forces had formed a barricade at the end of their planned path, it had been just as   
long for them and by now the sun was lowering from its highest point in the sky, the humidity still torturous, the fog still thick and the sun sharp

There was just so much going wrong

Then he heard the whispers on the wind, they were going to start forcing them back as soon as the next hour struck, if they fight they will use force, those behind the barricade were grabbing supplies and evacuating people uninvolved from the street with harsh force

_Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken_

He could remember when he had first heard this song, but it was the one made in the singer’s honour that played, one of the many anthems chosen for this battle ever since a man lost his life to a cop that got off easy

_And the violence, caused such silence, who are we mistaken?_

The air was growing thick and he could feel static in the air, through his fingertips with each person he brushed against

_But you see it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head, they are fighting_

  
He looked ahead, where the front of the march stood, a woman not holding a sign, but signing to the lyrics of the song, not far from him a boy not much older than the group of teenage misfits back home in a wheelchair, holding a sign as another boy pushed his chair, one hand rested on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed it gently

_With their tanks and their bombs and their bombs and their drones, in your head, in your head, they are crying_

  
And as a Black man stood in the tray of a truck, his fist raised in his air, those with free hands threw their fists up too

_“What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh”_

  
The words were sung, the crowd sung, but the aggression in their voices, the hurt, the pain, the rage, it was clear as day, and all directed at the forces that wished to stop them as they came to a stand still

  
**_‘Just hold me… please’_ **

  
Those old eyes screwed shut, clashing swords and cries of rage filled his senses as dust and rain and dew covered grass was all he could smell, faint rumbling all he could hear

_**‘There’s… there’s s-something I want to tell you’** _

No

**_‘Everything you’ve done, I know now, for me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build’_ **

Why now? Why does he have to remember so clearly now

The man on the truck was pulling people up to join him, let their words speak louder  
 _Another mother’s breakin’ heart is taking over_

_**‘I want to say something to you that I’ve never said to you before’** _

It has been hundreds and thousands of years, why could he remember the smells so clearly now, the sounds, that voice, that face, they had drifted from his memory so long ago as he desperately tried to hold on, his memories these last years were hazy and unclear, now, it’s as vivid as if it were only a second ago

_**‘Thank you’** _

He could vividly feel the leather bound hand on the back of his head, and he could feel it slip away

_When the violence causes silence, we must be mistaken_

Tears fell to the concrete and he couldn’t stop the choked sob that wracked his form  
Why couldn’t all the fighting stop on that day, when all light and happiness faded from the world of that man’s loved ones

Why did he have to die?

It was all for nothing, everyone was still fighting  
Him, them, they should have been the last ones to suffer  
Wasn’t this Albion’s greatest hour of need? These last few months, so much death

AND WHERE WAS HE!

Why did Albion still deny them their saviour, their once and future king?

A dark skinned hand entered his field of vision, breaking his thoughts, he looked up and saw the man reaching down to him from the truck with a sympathetic smile, not much was more heartbreaking than a crying old man he supposed

He didn’t know what he was thinking but he took that hand

_It’s the same old theme in two thousand eighteen, in your head, in your head, they’re still fightin’_

He pulled down his mask to sit under his chin, his fingers touching the slight stubble on his otherwise smooth chin and struck his fist in to the air, his eyes flying shut, his other hand, no longer effected by the purgatory of time, of elderly age, clutched at his heart, his black shirt creasing under his clenched fingers

 _"With their tanks and their bombs and their guns and their drones, in your head, in your head, they are dyin”_ he sung amongst the others, finally letting go, putting all his heart ache and anger in to his voice, the voice he had all those years ago

 _“What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie, oh”_ the crowd sung with all their hearts, encouraged by the voice of this young man they had never seen, and though the man that had pulled him up to the truck felt conflicted, knowing that this young man, not much older than a boy was an old man not a moment ago, but he felt like this was right, that there was nothing to say

 _“It’s the same old theme in two thousand **twenty** , in your head, in your head, they are dying”_ the crowd sung over the words, twisting them to fit this horrible year, this horrible crisis, the reason for this march, this protest, this urge to fight the baracade

 _“What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, What's in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah yeah”_  
And as the music faded to nothing, so did sound, leaving silence for only a moment, and as the sun grew lower and lower in the sky, the sky turning the slightest shade warmer and the sun setting the sky ablaze through the fog, the air slowly taking on the scent of petrichor, a man at the barricade with his helmet up looked to him with a firm glare then spanned across the crowd before dropping his visor

They had many warnings, and they had ignored all those warnings

“YOU ALL HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE TO STAND DOWN AND LEAVE, REFUSAL TO CO-OPERATE AND WE WILL HAVE TO TAKE ACTION, INNOCENTS DO NOT NEED TO DIE!”

  
No one stood down, no one turned away, it was a stand off, it was a wait for the first person to act

“You’re hurting, I can see you’re hurting more than anyone else, will you stand? Will you tell them we wont back down? That you wont back down?, everyone here is ready for a fight, we just need someone to start it, I will happily take the first stand, but you look like you need it more, you looked like you had been hurt more”

It was the same man that took his hand, he held a flag, a simple white fabric with the black fist painted on, the words beneath, Black Lives Matter, written beneath and he couldn’t deny it, he had many black friends throughout his long life, and many of them had died at the hands of the people meant to protect and serve their countries, soldiers and cops alike, but he could only imagine, were they here, Guinevere and Elyan too would be raising this flag and not standing down

He nodded, took the flag and looked over at the man

“What’s you’re name?” he asked, this man had to be around the age Elyan was

“Lance, you?” he asked, and he smiled, what a brave name, a name of a man he knew well, putting his first foot on the roof of the truck and smiled

“Merlin”

And as he stepped up on to the roof, fist raised in his hand as he looked straight at the man that spoke and sneered at the way he assessed these people like they were a threat, like they were numbers, and if this was his last stand, his last battle, he wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt, he took of his mask from his ears and threw it in to the truck

“VENI VIDI VICI, WE WILL NEVER BACK DOWN! WE WILL CONQUER” he shouted, his voice deep and powerful

The cheers sounded like war cannons or dragon cries in his ears, the man, the captain that spoke looked terrified, but in a moment, he turned to the man next to him, spike quietly and quickly, and though it was silent for a moment, the man nodded, pulled out a gun, aimed and set his eyes on Lance who now stood by Merlin supporting him

Merlin would never allow it, he stepped in front of Lance, pushing him back

The gunshot rang loud and clear, enough to silence the crowd, the force alone was enough to throw him back and sent him falling in to the back of the truck

For a moment there was nothing, and as Lance watched the black shirt turn a slight red tone and become drenched, the flag the man held turning red he looked to the barricade in rage

Chaos erupted

War Cries echoed in the air, people began to attack, cries turned to screaming agony from mace sprayed in to their faces, tear gas was thrown and they rushed to throw it back, people were being tased and beaten back, held down even

And that same man emerged, megaphone in hand and gun propped beneath it

“GET BACK OR I WILL SHOOT!”

All moved back quickly, looking at the angered man, the only movement were people washing people’s eyes and faces from the sprays  
But soon the gun grew visibly hot in his hand, so hot he dropped it in fear the gun would cause damage to himself

“No, you wont”

All froze at the voice of the man that had been shot, straight through the chest, walking through the crowd and emerging before him, dropping a bloody bullet from his hand and as it clattered to the ground, he began to walk forward, the bloodied flag in his other hand

“Don’t come any closer” he spoke, grabbing a gun from another guard and aiming

The man set of three bullets right in to his chest once more, but when he did not fall, from the close range or the bullets themselves, the man stepped back as Merlin looked down and then back at the man

“You think that measly bullets will work? Nothing has killed me in the last TWO THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN YEARS, and no, I’m not crazy” he seethed and just as the man sought to aim elsewhere in his fear, those cobalt eyes flared molten gold and a sheer golden barrier formed behind him, stretching out to the furthest sides of the march behind him, the bullet he shot freezing in the field before the terrified woman

And as many men fired many bullets they did not reach the people behind him

“You will not harm them, I am the power of the Earth herself, Albion’s creation, granted all the power man sought to use or purge from these lands, and the only one that can kill me is her only other gift, and he’s long dead

“Shoot! Why won’t you shoot damn it?!”

They all aimed but hesitated, their fear froze them

And as the harsh wind began, warning the storm’s approach, his hood fell, unveiling his entire face, his raven hair, the structured face, the ears, one gun began to lower, ever so slowly

“SHOOT”

The gun shot rang loud and clear, from the lowered gun, an accidental shot from the sudden noise, it took him to the side of his abdomen, and the man’s eyes widened, the other gun shots didn’t feel like this  
He stepped back and pressed a hand to his abdomen, pulling his hand away, he could see the liquid gold on his hand, liquid gold that caught the first drops of rain  
The last time he had bled like that, he had sliced his hand cleaning Excalibur, a weapon made for…  
He looked to the shooter and watched as the man ripped his helmet off and the gold faded from his eyes as they widened in shock  
That golden hair, the deep set blue eyes beneath firm brows, the strong nose, sharp jaw and squared chin and the strong cheekbones that curved to stop half way across his cheek and just beneath his nose

“A-”

His knees buckled and as he prepared to hit the cold pavement, he was instead caught in a pair of cold but strong arms as the rain picked up

“Merlin… shit”

“You’re late” Merlin spoke, looking up at the man of golden hair that had plagued his darkest nightmares and brightest dreams

“I just woke up, I didn’t have my lousy servant around to wake me” he spoke, gentle and teasing

“Well, I did say, if you need a servant in the next life, don’t ask me” he spoke and the other man laughed  
It only laughed so long before Merlin coughed wetly

“We’ll match” merlin croaked, finger gliding over the place where the blade had pierced flesh

“You’re ridiculous”

“Prat”

“Let’s get you to a hospital”

“No” he froze

“You’ll be fine Merlin, stop being such a wimp” he spoke, pleading his voice shaking

“I won’t make it in time, I’m always late, and you were never on time without help” merlin croaked

“Don’t give up”

“It’s alright

“I’m sorry, god I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to”

Merlin reached up and placed a hand on the blonde’s cheek

“It’s alright, it’s my turn, I knew I would fall today, I’m just glad that it was to you… it’s my turn to rest” he spoke and took a deep shaky breath

“It’s your turn to wait… don’t worry, it won’t be for long, just- just do me a favour” he asked, those eyes becoming unfocused

“Anything” he spoke, tears brimming in his eyes threatening to fall

“Take me to the lake, the Lake of Avalon, after there’s a house by the lake, a list will be inside, please do those things for me”

“Of course Merlin”

“I really missed you”

“Merlin”

“I hope you don’t have to miss me long, god forbid you spend too long alone”

“Merlin”  
“Arthur”

It was the first time he said his name

“Don’t leave me, when I come back, don’t leave me”  
“Never”

The relieved laugh escaped with one final breath as eyes lost focus, gazing blankly at the sky, rain smearing the colours upon the man’s lids, he didn’t look much older than he did when we had been crowned prince, couldn’t be older than twenty three, barely an adult and all those years ago, hardly mature enough to be considered one though he carried the safety of the kingdom and his destiny heavy upon his shoulders

Arthur remembered that not many years after those carefree smiles became fewer and far between, I smile hadn’t come as easily to the once manservant’s face during his reign as king but was as easy as breathing when he was only Prince, even with the danger of what his father may do had he found out the truth over his head

_I been walkin' With my face turned to the sun, Weight on my shoulders, A bullet in my gun_

Arthur pulled Merlin closer and turned his most trusted friend’s lifeless face in to his chest, reaching up and guiding those lids to veil those beautiful eyes from the light and let those long lashes rest upon the alabaster skin of his cheeks

_Oh, I got eyes in the back of my head Just in case I have to run, I do what I can when I can while I can for my people, While the clouds roll back and the stars fill the night_

He shifted those knees, putting his arm under them and pulling all the weight in to his arms

_That's when I'm gonna stand up, Take my people with me, Together we are going, To a brand new home_

Arthur stood, adjusting his friend in his arm, his forehead resting gently on Arthur’s shoulder, he looked once to the man that had ordered him and the men he had stood with to shoot, and simply turned away, he knew where he had to go, it was calling to him

_Far across the river, Can you hear freedom calling? Calling me to answer, Gonna keep on keepin' on_

“Commander James, what do you think you’re doing?! Fall in line! That’s an order!” the man shouted and Arthur breathed deeply and looked back, a firm glare set on his face

_I can feel it in my bones_

“You are mistaken, Captain Wade, you’re talking to a man who now knows his name” Arthur spoke and turned his face away

“Oh really, and what is that name? how does a name change anything?” he asked, like he wanted to laugh and the man whom he was convinced was beneath him

“Because that name is Arthur Pendragon, but as that last name has been lost for centuries, King Arthur will suffice” he stated simply and took the first step towards the pull

_Early in the mornin' Before the sun begins to shine We're gonna start movin' Towards that separating line_

People stepped away, from the man who held the being that had taken so many bullets and protected them all from so many more, and as Arthur walked, visions filled the minds of all

_I'm wadin' through muddy waters You know I got a made up mind And I don't mind if I lose any blood on the way to salvation And I'll fight with the strength that I got until I die_

This man, standing in a throne room, sunlight shining upon chainmail and leather, a grand vibrant red, gold embellished cloak billowing in a mysterious wind and shining gold upon his head as a crown, and the man in his arms stood in shades of blue and red at the man’s side, both proud, both powerful

Untouchable

_So I'm gonna stand up, Take my people with me, Together we are going To a brand new home, Far across the river Can you hear freedom calling? Calling me to answer, Gonna keep on keepin' on_

Visions of battles, a golden embellished blade taking down men by the hundreds in a mere few breaths  
More men in grand red capes and chainmail fighting with him, standing with him around a circular table

_And I know what's around the bend Might be hard to face 'cause I'm alone And I just might fail But Lord knows I tried Sure as stars fill up the sky_

A figure, a dark skinned woman dressed in simple floral dresses that faded in to grand gowns, elegant hair and a golden crown upon her own head, strength in her eyes but a gentle smile on her lips

_Stand up Take my people with me Together we are going To a brand new home Far across the river Can you hear freedom calling? Calling me to answer, Gonna keep on keepin' on_

A large fearsome dragon flew past their visions, many beasts and strange creatures alike, horrible men and women that looked dangerous, a moment from attacking  
And the knights conquered all

_Stand up Take my people with me Together we are going To a brand new home Far across the river Can you hear freedom calling? Calling me to answer, Gonna keep on keepin' on_

The blonde knight with a gentle face but carried a strong sense of leadership, Loyalty

The knight of deep brown locks, he looked as though nothing would stop him from saving the innocent, Honour

A monstrously tall knight, a gentle giant that was an unbreakable force, Valiance

A dark skin knight still young but determined, Duty

A knight with warm brown hair and a roguish sense to him but that would always give his all for the right cause, Strength

_Stand up Take my people with me Together we are going To a brand new home Far across the river Can you hear freedom calling? Calling me to answer, Gonna keep on keepin' on_

And as this mysterious man walked through the crowd, wearing the uniform of the men they were fighting and holding the man that had fallen at his own hand, they did nothing, they dare not, if this man, this simple young man, was really as powerful as the images that struck them were, if he were really that important, if they both were, then they would never even consider stopping them

_I go to prepare a place for you_

_I go to prepare a place for you_

_I go to prepare a place for you_

_I go to prepare a place for you_

.

* * *

**So, what do you think? pretty rough here and there but it's a current problem that ties in with one of my favorite shows**

**i'd be so happy if a comment was left behind, i'm kinda anxious about this one**

**it's a touchy subject**

**i hope you liked some part of it, i'm not sure if i'll be making another story to continue on from this one, let me know if you have any ideas**

**well, thank you for your time :)**

**~Enchanted <3**


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